A Shattered Peace
by Book 'em Again
Summary: A domestic violence case goes from bad to worse when an abusive father threatens to kill his wife and kids on Christmas Day. It is a scenario for which Officer Danny Williams is completely unprepared, and he must deal with an aftermath that is anything but merry.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: This is the third story in my prequel series. It comes after the events in "Smugglers and Spies" and "The Trouble with Money" and features original characters introduced in those stories. However, it is written so that it can stand alone. Also, the quoted lyrics are from "Jingle Bells" which is in public domain.

* * *

 **Chapter One: Jingle Bells**

 _December 25, 1962_

There are moments in people's lives that make them stop and look differently at the world around them. It is during these moments that illusions are shattered and dreams become hollow.

Such moments shape a person, break them, and have the ability to transform them into something other than what they were before.

For often, one must experience the deepest and darkest that humanity can offer before one can discover the fullness of humanity's light.

Christmas Day during Officer Dan Williams' second year in the Honolulu Police Department was one of those moments.

* * *

" _Dashing through the snow in a one horse open sleigh, o'er the hills we go, laughing all the way…"_

While the radio filled the squad car with the joyous sound of jingling bells, Danny Williams glanced out the window at Honolulu's empty streets. It was Christmas morning and people were gathered with family and friends to celebrate the holiday. It was the quietest Danny had ever seen his home, which was a nice change from his daily routine.

Smiling, Danny looked over at his partner in the driver's seat and said, "It seems odd to listen to songs about snow when it's seventy degrees outside."

Danny's partner laughed then replied, "No, it's the only reason we can be happy as we sing songs about snow. I have family on the mainland and let me tell you, no one over there has this idealistic view of winter that we think of in the islands.

Nodding, Danny had to agree. He remembered one Christmas break when he was a teenager and had traveled with his mother to visit his Aunt Clara. That year, she was performing in a show in St. Paul, Minnesota. He had been miserable the whole time. He had no idea that the temperature could dip below zero!

" _Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way. Oh what fun it is to ride in a one horse open sleigh."_

As his partner, Officer Steve O'Donnell, started to sing along, the young cop smiled; in spite of his partner's tendency to sing off key, Danny couldn't have asked for a better person to work with. For the older cop seemed to delight in his role as a mentor to the younger officer. Danny had first met the man whom HPD called the 'the other Steve' when he had worked a case with HPD's detective unit and eventually, with Five-O. They had hit it off and, at the conclusion of the case, the two had become partners.

When Danny had first heard his partner's nickname of 'the other Steve', he thought that it sounded odd. But after having more encounters with Steve McGarrett than any rookie ought to have had, Danny knew from firsthand experience that the nickname was more than apt. For the other Steve was an easy going, slightly overweight, balding man and a father of three. He was content with a career in a squad car and had no desire for advancement. Steve McGarrett, to put it mildly, was none of those things. And since McGarrett was the most powerful law enforcement agent in Hawaii, when anyone talked about 'Steve' it was assumed that the person was talking about McGarrett, so the nickname 'the other Steve' stuck.

When the carol ended, Danny spoke up before the other Steve could begin singing again. "What are your plans once we get off duty?"

"Go home, play with the kids. My wife's sister and her family are over and I can smell the Christmas dinner already. Ham, yams, green beans…"

Danny's stomach growled as he remembered the last time he'd eaten with his partner's family. "Sounds good but I suspect your kids will want to open their presents sometime."

Steve laughed. "I'd be a fool to make them wait. They opened them last night after we got back from church. That way, they can have fun with their new toys and forget that Dad is off at work."

Danny looked at his partner and couldn't help being saddened by the fact that a father was stuck working while his kids were making Christmas memories. "I'm sorry you couldn't be there."

"It's part of the job, Danny. Not a fun part but a necessary one. Someday when you have kids of your own, you'll feel the guilt but you'll come to work because you believe that what you do makes this world a safer place for them to grow up in."

Knowing that there weren't any words to adequately respond, Danny mulled over his partner's statement when a call came over the radio, "Central to O'Donnell."

"O'Donnell here."

"Got a report of a domestic disturbance at 109 Linapuni Street. Home of George and Lisa Thorton. Check it out. Officers Fuorry and Ishi will meet you there."

"Ten-four."

The irony of responding to a domestic disturbance was not lost on the young officer. "You'd think this would be the one day of the year when families would be happy or at least peaceful."

Steve shook his head at his partner's ignorance. "For families dealing with issues, the stress of a major holiday can make things worse, not better. Now this could be nothing or it could be serious so be ready."

Danny nodded. He already knew from his eighteen months on the force that domestic disturbance calls could be some of the most dangerous situations an officer could respond to because until you arrived at the scene, you had no idea what to expect.

When they arrived, Officers Fuorry and Ishi were already at the scene. As the senior officers, O'Donnell and Fuorry decided to knock and ordered their partners to hang back and provide back-up as necessary.

"Mr. Thorton, open up! It's the police," the other Steve called out as he pounded on the door.

A muffled thud and the scurry of footsteps raised Danny's suspicions as he shifted his position and moved closer to the front window to try to see inside.

The other Steve knocked more loudly. "This is your final warning. Open this door or we'll open it for you!"

A gunshot rang out through the air, causing all the officers to immediately hit the ground. "Stay back or I'll start shooting!" a gruff voice hollered out.

The loud shrill scream of a woman in distress caused the officers to push aside concern for their own safety and jump to their feet to aid the victim. But when O'Donnell and Fuorry were about to break down the door, Danny saw something through the window that made his blood boil. "Stop! Thorton's got a gun to the head of a little girl."

 _Not just any little girl_ , Danny thought in disgust. _That child has got to be his own daughter!_

Recognizing that he now had the cops' attention, Thorton said, "Listen up, Fuzz, 'cause this is how it's going to go. You place two hundred dollars by the front door and then back away or I will kill everyone."

Two hundred dollars! In an instance, this call had gone from a domestic violence call to a hostage negotiation. As police officers, they were trained to deal with the unexpected but none of them had the training to deal with this. Besides, what sort of man threatened to kill his own family over two hundred dollars?

 _I'll bet my next paycheck that he's an addict._

Danny's stomach churned at the thought while the other Steve turned toward Ishi and ordered, "Get on the horn and tell them we need a hostage negotiator, _stat_."

As Ishi jogged quickly toward the squad cars, Fuorry growled, "I wish I could just kill that bastard."

"No, you don't," the other Steve stated solemnly. "We're better men than that."

Danny looked at his partner whom he had never seen like this before. The usually mild-mannered man had a fire in his eyes and the tone of voice when he reprimanded Fuorry left no doubt that they would follow the book and do their best to preserve the lives of everyone in that house even though this perp did not deserve it.

"What do we do?" Danny asked.

"Stall until someone qualified to deal with this situation shows up," Steve replied grimly.

Danny just hoped Thorton would let them stall. But no sooner than that thought had crossed Danny's mind did Thorton make it clear that he had no intentions of being patient. "Well, cops! Do you have the money by the door?"

They were stuck. None of them carried any money on duty so even if they were inclined to meet Thorton's demand, they couldn't.

But they had no choice, they had to do something.

Knowing that everyone else was looking to him to act, the other Steve took a deep breath and said as calmly as he was able, "Mr. Thorton, we don't have the money."

"No, you're lying. You have to be lying. You've got five minutes to put the money on the front porch or I start shooting."

"Give me more time and I can contact someone who can get you the money."

"NO!" Thorton's shout made Danny take a step back. "Five minutes! Put the money in front of the door!"

 _This guy is absolutely out of his mind,_ Danny thought to himself; a thought that was reflected on his fellow officers' faces.

Officer Ishi called out from his place by the radio. "Back-up is coming but they're seven minutes out."

That was not good. Thorton was not going to last seven minutes.

If Danny had been given time to think it over, he probably would've hesitated and convinced himself that he couldn't have an answer that eluded his older, more experienced colleagues. But the one thing this perp had not given them was time. So as soon as the idea hit him, Danny spoke up, "I have an idea."

It would be a Christmas miracle if it worked, but he had a plan.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: The Broken Bell**

While Danny quickly described his plan, he kept waiting for his colleagues to tell him that it wouldn't work, that he was out of his mind, that they had a better idea but no one interrupted. When he finished talking, the other Steve nodded once and swiftly took charge. "Fuorry, stay on the front. Ishi, you're with me on the side door."

Then tossing Danny a walkie-talkie, his partner added, "Signal me when you're in position."

Clipping the device onto his belt, Danny replied, "Will do." Then without another word, he sprinted toward the makai side of the house. Earlier, he had noticed an open second story window with a rather large branch of a kapok tree growing within a few feet of it.

As Danny climbed the tree, he tried not to think of what would happen if he failed. He needed to concentrate on the here and now. Wrapping his arms and legs around a branch, he carefully slid as close as he could to the open window.

When the branch began to bend slightly from his weight, he unwrapped his legs and swung them forward until they touched the windowsill. Then, before his body had a chance to freeze up in fear, he made a leap of faith.

By some miracle, he managed to tumble through the open window in one piece. Praying that he hadn't made too much noise, Danny glanced down at his watch; ninety seconds until Thorton's deadline. Moving swiftly to the top of the staircase, he carefully eased his head around the corner. He had a clear sight line of the scene in the living room and no one was looking in his direction.

He saw Mrs. Thorton laying on the floor, bleeding and pleading with her husband to set down her daughter. Three other young children were huddled against the back wall. And Mr. Thorton stood in the middle of the room with his stunned youngest daughter in his left arm and a pistol in his right hand. From his position, Danny could tell that the gunman's finger wasn't resting on the trigger. So if he could clip him in the right shoulder, there was a good chance that Thorton would drop the gun. The problem was what that from his only possible angle, he couldn't hit Thorton without hitting the child. He needed Thorton to turn.

Pulling out the walkie-talkie, Danny whispered a few directions to his partner. The other Steve acknowledged and uttered a few words of encouragement that the nervous cop was barely able to comprehend. He was too busy focusing on his .38 and lining up the shot he knew he had to make.

He would only get one chance. He couldn't afford to miss. Not with a little girl's life at stake.

The time limit passed and nothing happened. Danny dared to hope that maybe backup would have a chance to arrive and he wouldn't be needed after all. But as soon as that thought crossed his mind, Thorton starting raving again. "You listening, cop? Where is my money? Time's up and I want my money!"

Danny's world narrowed. All he saw was his gun, Thorton and the child. So when he heard on the periphery the sound of side door of the house being forced open, his eyes focused solely on the madman as he dropped his daughter and turned to face the new threat.

Thorton's back was facing him. He had a clear shot.

Danny pulled the trigger and the sound of gunfire echoed throughout the house.

Thorton dropped to the floor.

The wife rushed forward and grabbed her screaming but unhurt daughter.

The girl was alive. He had made an impossible shot.

Danny ran down the steps but Ishi beat him to the scene; the other officer grabbed Thorton's dropped gun and looked over Thorton's wound. When Danny arrived, Ishi looked up from beside the body, with a sorrowful look in his eyes and said, "He'll live."

A wave of relief hit Danny when he realized that he hadn't killed a man today. Killing Thorton would have been justified and he knew that. However, Danny was pleased to know that he hadn't been forced to take a life.

Yet, even as Danny felt relief, he was hit with the sudden realization that something was wrong – very wrong. Ishi looked sorrowful and that didn't match with the words he had spoken a few seconds ago. Danny was about to say something when the answer hit him. _His partner should have reached Thorton first._

Moving more quickly than he ever had before, Danny sprinted towards the side door that Steve was supposed to have entered and saw the very scene he feared most: Officer Steve O'Donnell lying on the ground with a single bullet through his skull – dead.

Sinking to ground beside his friend's body, Danny's mind raced as he tried to figured out what had happened. He 'd heard no other shot, but he had thought that his shot had echoed in the house. The truth hit him like a knife to the heart; there had been no echo. There had been two shots. The second had wounded Thorton. The first had killed his partner and friend.

Danny was too stunned to speak. Too stunned to cry. This couldn't be real. None of this could be happening. Steve had to be alive. He was supposed to go home and have Christmas dinner with his family and play with his kids. He couldn't be dead! Danny's plan was supposed to have saved everyone, not kill his partner.

His plan.

His fault.

Choking back tears, Danny reached out and touched his partner's cheek. "I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm so sorry."

Danny remained kneeling, oblivious to the sounds of approaching sirens and then more officers bursting into the house; backup had arrived. Not wanting to face anyone else at the moment, he slowly stepped away and let his co-workers deal with the wounded and the dead.

He continued stepping backward until he almost tripped over an object lying on the floor. Leaning down, he picked up a broken bell. The handle was snapped off and chunks of the body were missing. But the metal looked new.

Soft footsteps made Danny look up and he noticed Lisa Thorton standing before him, another police officer by her side. She had a haunted and hollow look to her eyes. He couldn't help but wonder if she would ever heal from the effects of her husband's abuse.

Lisa whispered softly, "Thank you for saving my children."

Danny nodded to indicate that he had heard her words but he remained silent. What could he say? How could he acknowledge her gratitude when his efforts had gotten a good man killed?

The battered woman looked at the broken toy in his hands. "My husband was furious that I spent money on a few presents. I just wanted the kids to have a good Christmas but he wanted more of those damn drugs. Was I wrong? None of this would have happened if I had only listened."

Unable to answer, unable to speak, Danny knew that he should reassure this woman that the abuse was not her fault, but the words refused to come. His partner, his mentor, his friend was dead.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: Peals of Sorrow**

Steve McGarrett stepped out of his car and onto the crime scene and knew. It was clear from the way the officers stood, from the grief-stricken look in their eyes to the hollow sound of their voices: one of their own was dead.

He had been called in to negotiate, but he had arrived too late. Even though he was too experienced to blame himself, the Five-O chief still couldn't stop the speculation on what might have been if only he had managed to arrive sooner. Forcing those distracting thoughts from his head, Steve marched straight up to the ranking officer at the scene, Lieutenant George Kealoha. "George, what happened here?"

Kealoha tried to appear stoic, but it was clear that the man was forcing himself to hold back tears. "We received a domestic disturbance call. Two units were sent to investigate. When they arrived, George Thorton pulled a gun and threatened to kill his own daughter. The officers called for a negotiator, but the situation quickly deteriorated and they were forced to move in. An officer took Thorton out and no children were hurt, but not before Thorton shot and killed Officer O'Donnell.

O'Donnell. That name hit Steve like a punch in the gut. He had only worked with the man a couple of times, but the career officer and family man was well-known around the force. He had heard the moniker given to the officer and had always felt a connection to the man whom many considered to be his opposite. He had been pleased to hear that a certain young promising officer in the force has been assigned as his partner.

Danno! Steve glanced around the yard until he spotted the young officer sitting on a low stone wall with his head in his hands.

"Who took the gunman out?" Steve asked.

"Williams," George answered inclining his head toward the devastated officer.

"He's not doing well."

"None of us are. O'Donnell was a good man; a good cop. I don't know how I'm going to tell his wife and kids."

"The same way you always do," Steve solemnly said.

* * *

Once again, Danny was riding in the passenger seat of a cop car. But this was going to be the hardest assignment he had ever carried out. It would be Lieutenant George Kealoha's job to break the news and his superior had given him the option of staying behind. But he knew that to do so would be to dishonor his partner's sacrifice. Besides, Meredith and the kids would want answers that only he could provide.

All too soon, the car stopped and Danny followed George to the door. Before they knocked, he heard laughter coming from inside. This wasn't right. How dare they interrupt this moment of joy with one of sadness?

After knocking, an unfamiliar man opened the door; he must be a relative. However, he immediately figured out the seriousness of the situation and called out, "Sis, you're needed at the door."

Meredith came quickly, wiping her hands on her apron. When she spotted them standing in her doorway, her face immediately fell. "What's wrong? Has something happened to Steve? Is he hurt?"

"Ma'am, may we come inside?" George asked softly.

She nodded and as they walked inside, the large number of family members gathered there grew silent. Steve's daughters, Molly and Morgan, sensed the seriousness in the adult's voices and looked up from playing with their new dolls. Steve's son Patrick reached up and grabbed his mother's hand.

Danny's breath caught in his throat. He couldn't do this. He had already lived through this once before and as he looked at Patrick he saw himself all those years ago.

He couldn't stop the memories.

 _He was playing in the front yard, kicking around a ball with his friends while all of their mothers talked on the front porch. The peaceful moment was shattered when one of the boys shouted and pointed down the street. Their mothers all rose unsteadily on their feet as the boys just stared at a woman who was riding a bicycle through their neighborhood._

 _They all knew who that girl was and for whom she worked. They knew that wherever that girl stopped, she would hand over a piece of paper that carried a message from afar. Telegrams that, all too often, contained the news that someone's father, brother or uncle was injured, missing or worse... Because too many times after a visit from that girl, it meant that the blue star that hung in the window would be replaced with gold._

 _So when the girl handed his mother a telegram, Danny stopped and watched his mother's face. And then he knew. His father had been killed. He would never see his Daddy again._

As Danny studied Patrick, who was looking at him with such innocence in his young eyes, he came to an important realization. _I'm the girl on the bicycle. I'm the person with news that ruins lives._

George tried to break the news as gently as he could. But there was no gentle way to speak the harsh truth. "Meredith, I regret to inform you that your husband was killed…"

Meredith's scream cut off the rest of the formulaic sentence.

"Daddy's dead?" Molly asked, her soft voice squeaking.

"Yes, sweetheart," George answered. "And I want you to know that your Dad was a hero and a very brave man."

The kids started crying and their young cousins looked frightened and confused. At this point, the rest of the family took over. An aunt and uncle ushered the kids from the room, others rushed to save the food that was still cooking in the kitchen, and Meredith's mother eased her daughter onto the couch.

Danny forced himself not to flinch as Steve's widow met his gaze. "I want to know how my husband died."

George had already briefed him on how to respond to this question so Danny took a deep breath and began to speak. His voice sounded stilted and unnatural to his ears, but he kept on going until he shared as much as he was permitted to share.

After a few more questions were answers and condolences were shared, it was clear that the family wanted them to leave so that they could grieve in peace.

When Danny stepped outside, a wave of relief hit him, which only made him feel guilty. How could he focus so much on how this experience made him feel when a wife had lost her husband, children their father, parents their son?

As the two policemen walked back to the car, the bells of a nearby church began to ring. The sound seemed inappropriate, wrong. How could others be celebrating Christmas when he had just ruined one family's holiday by telling them that the man they loved would never come home?

So as the melody of _Joy to the World_ filled the air, the words to a different hymn came to his mind.

 _And in despair I bowed my head; "There is no peace on earth," I said: "For hate is strong, and mocks the song of peace on earth, good-will to men!"*_

No peace. Not today. Not ever.

* * *

*These words are from the poem "Christmas Bells" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow written in 1863. They are more popularly known in the carol, "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: Bells Tolling**

Rows of perfectly pressed uniforms silently standing at attention.

The feel of polished wood beneath his hand.

The soft voice of a priest praying.

The muffled sobs of a woman trying to be silent.

The sharp odor of incense wafting through the air.

The click of polished boots against the church floor.

Voices cracking as they were lifted up in song.

The tolling of the bells.

Snippets. Moments when some sight or sound broke through the numbness and the pain that Danny Williams felt inside. Nothing felt real, it was if the world were covered in a fog that made everything seem so far away. It had taken effort to get up, effort to be here in this place, effort to not protest when people called him a hero for saving those kids when all he felt was guilt over the one person he had failed to save.

The only way Danny was going to make it through the funeral was by focusing on his duty. He was not going to fail to protect his partner in this final task. Keeping a firm grip on the casket, he carefully watched his steps, making sure they were in line with those of the officer in front of him.

The casket was heavy; heavier than he had imagined it would be, but the weight was one Danny wanted to carry. He wanted his arms to hurt; he wanted to have to concentrate on the difficulty of this task. He welcomed the pain. Because the weight he carried in his hands was nothing compared to what he carried in his heart.

* * *

Danny raised the rifle, its muzzle pointed towards the target. Shifting his body into a firing stance, he braced himself. Staring down his sight, he switched off the safely and rested his finger against the trigger. He squeezed the trigger, the rifle recoiled and the bullet flew toward the target.

Lowering the rifle slightly, Danny frowned. While he had hit the target, he had caught only the outer edge. That wasn't good enough.

Taking aim again, he tried to focus on his breathing just as much as his aim. The second shot was better, but he was still three inches away from the center. Three inches could have meant the difference between killing Thorton and killing the daughter he had held in his arms.

He had to do better. He had to. He'd learned to shuot a rifle in basic training, but he saw little need to maintain the skill. A handgun was a more practical weapon for a cop and his had always served him well. That was, until the day it didn't. The day he had needed the precision of rifle but had neither the access to one nor the training to properly use one in a hostage situation.

He had to get better.

He couldn't fail again.

Determination filled his being as he lined up the rifle for a third shot. Focus. He just needed to focus. His body knew what to do.

Bullseye: a perfect shot. But Danny felt no satisfaction at achieving his goal. How could he? Not when the sight of O'Donnell's body never seemed to leave his mind. One in three was a start, but he still had a long way to go. He should schedule some time with the instructor, work in more practice time. Danny shook his head. What was he thinking? Any actions he took now would be too little, too late. If only...

The call of 'cease fire' echoed down the range and Danny immediately lowered his rifle, switched on the safety and set his weapon down on the table beside him. While others moved out onto the range to work on the targets, he stretched while waiting for the signal that the range was live again.

"Officer Williams."

Danny turned; it was no surprise that he was recognized - he was shooting at the HPD range - but the formality of the address seemed odd. At least until he spotted Lieutenant Henry Kainoa walking in his direction. Holding back a frown, Danny attempted to discern what the hapa-haole man, who was in charge of HPD detectives, could possibly want with him. Especially while he was on a paid leave of absence due to his partner's death and his own role in shooting a suspect. But he kept those thoughts to himself and replied, "Good afternoon, sir."

Kainoa glanced downrange at Danny's target and said, "Nice shooting, kid."

The last thing Danny wanted to do was listen to someone attempt to cheer him up with well intended, but empty sounding praise. So he responded with the truth, "Not really."

Kainoa raised an eyebrow. "One perfect shot and two on the target? I think you and I have different opinions of what's impressive."

"I could have done better."

The veteran cop understood exactly to what the younger officer was referring, and it wasn't the target at the other end of the range. "Danny, a rifle wouldn't have saved O'Donnell."

"You think that's why I'm here?" Danny snapped; Kainoa's words were threatening to bring up all the emotions he had been doing his best to suppress. He could cope as long as he didn't have to talk about it.

"Danny, you're not the only cop in this conversation. Everyone deals with grief in his own way and yours is a well-trodden path."

The look in Kainoa's eyes was so genuine that Danny felt his barriers starting to crumble. Kainoa cared. "You can't know that it wouldn't have made a difference," Danny argued.

"All we know is what happened and that can't be changed. If you want to change something, change the future. What are you doing tomorrow?"

Danny shrugged. "I haven't made any plans."

"Work with me."

"What?"

"You're not going to feel any better moping around your apartment. Trust me, I know. I'm working on tracking down the dealer who sold Thorton those drugs. Thought you might want to be involved."

"Chief Dann put me on the beach."

"I've already spoken with him. If you work with me, you can return."

Danny hesitated. Kainoa's offer was tempting, but the odds of tracking down the dealer and the men who controlled him would be low. Did he really want to set himself up for disappointment on the chance that they might arrest a man or two? None of them were the ones who had pulled the trigger on the gun that killed his partner. No, he couldn't do this. "It doesn't matter. Nothing can bring Steve back."

"If you really believe that, why are you here?"

Danny froze. The problem with working with cops was that they all were so darned perceptive. But he couldn't respond now. He needed time to think.

"Sleep on it," Kainoa said. "There's a meeting in my office tomorrow at eight 'o clock. If you want to help, be there."

Danny watched as the detective turned and walked away. Turning his attention back to his target and confirming that the range was live, he picked the rifle back up. Taking aim, he tried to put the conversation out of his mind. But when he took the shot, he didn't need to check to know that he had missed the target.

This wasn't helping. Kainoa seemed to think that working with him would. In Danny's mind, every path seemed to hold nothing but more pain and more grief. But, if the situation were reversed, what would his partner do?

Danny shook his head. That was a dumb question. O'Donnell was a cop's cop. Only his duty to his family came before his duty to the badge. Which meant that Danny's answer was clear: tomorrow he would go to the station and he would report for work and he would try to move on the best he could. Because that was what cops did.


End file.
